I went to Walmart twice yesterday. The first time it was just me and Babs, during preschool, and I felt very productive for having done a hard thing like that (yes, going to Walmart is hard for me). After arriving home exhausted, I realized I had left a bag there. And all my proud, productive feelings went away, leaving me with frustration and more tiredness.
After picking up Kiddo from preschool, we went out for lunch (cause I could not face making them lunch). Then we headed back to Walmart to see what we could do about my missing bag. We waited in the customer service line for about 10 minutes, which is about an eternity for a tired two-year old. Finally we got to the front of the line, where the lady told me I could go pick up replacement items (they were perishables) and bring them back to her to be bagged. So, my kids and I headed to the back of store (carefully avoiding any place where they could see toys) to get my yogurt and cottage cheese. Did I mention I was tired? And Babs has a tendancy to act crazy/run off/crawl on the floor in public places, especially when she is tired? So I was weary as I tried to keep track of the two of them through the store.
Kiddo, as she is prone to do, skipped ahead of us. She seems to be skipping most of the time now. My mom often talks fondly about the years I spent skipping. (I remember skipping, I did it for years.) I always thought she was a little sentimental. But now I have a skipper. And it's wonderful. She is pretty much joy embodied when she skips from one place to another. Surely you could not move so freely and happily if you had a heavy heart.
As we finally reached the dairy section I pulled her close and said "You are a happy girl, and I am a better person because I get to be with you."
